The Ballad of Shadows
by writer writing
Summary: An expecting Sister Ruth gets offered an unusual job, ridding a home of a ghost. Meanwhile, Kid Cole deals with a ghost of his own. 1840. AU. Eleventh in a series.
1. Chapter 1

Sister Ruth and Kid Cole were enjoying a lovely, little county fair. There were horse races, food contests, and livestock to look at.

"You seen enough?" Kid asked after they'd finished their meat pies and lemonade, items they'd purchased for their supper.

"Not just yet. There's supposed to be a fortune teller who holds séances around here somewhere. I wouldn't mind talking to her."

Kid knew she had no intention of contacting a specter but instead wanted to try and talk some sense to the medium. "I was expecting that. Okay, let's go."

They waited in line at least 45 minutes to see her. She was a popular attraction it seemed. Ruth watched the people who left the tent. Some looked unsure and skeptical, others laughed it all off like it was a big joke, but a couple looked amazed and confident that whatever they'd just witnessed was true and those were the ones she worried about.

At last, it came their turn to see the supposed clairvoyant. She was a beautiful, young woman who boldly wore her long, straight hair down in a fiery, henna-colored waterfall, a flowery crown gracing it. Her dress looked like something they wore in the renaissance.

"You speak to spirits?" Ruth asked.

"Yes. It is a gift I've had since I was a child." Her accent was thick from some European country in the southeast like Bosnia or Yugoslavia maybe, adding to the mystique of the strange objects in the tent.

"I don't believe it. And I think what you do is terrible making folks think they're talking to those who are beyond contact. It would be one thing if you told them it was all for a lark, but you're lying to them."

"An unbeliever I see. What I do is comfort people who are grieving for their loved ones. I give them hope. You may not agree with my methods, but you can't disagree with the results."

"It's a false hope built on lies. Lies that may lead to eternal damnation."

"How opinionated you are, but before you condemn me, perhaps you should see what it is you're condemning. Yes?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why? Are you afraid to summon the dead, Sister Ruth?"

 _August 1840_

Pleasant Mountain, Missouri was a town, or a village really, made up of about 40 people at the most and Ruth had been pleased to find that nearly all those 40 people had shown up for the revival. It was so named because it was the closest thing one found to a hill in this prairie land. What it was truly was barely elevated land, but it was pleasant enough.

Kid was loading the wagon with the benches by himself, refusing Ruth's help as she was getting close to her lying-in. There wouldn't be many more revivals for awhile. They were preparing to head to a milder climate as winter would be here before they knew it.

She had thought all the attendees had left, but one still lingered. She was a slight woman with eyes that seemed to bulge from her sockets, dark hair that was extremely curled in a wild, natural way, and skin that had been darkened by the sun. Even now she wore no hat or carried no parasol to protect her from the beaming sun.

When she saw Ruth was looking at her, she rushed up to present her request. "You are clearly a woman of great spiritual power to have brought healing. You're just the one I've been looking for. I need your services."

"I'd be happy to help anyway I can, Miss..."

"Oh, folks just call me Electa."

"Electa, what is it you need?"

"I need help ridding my house of a ghost."

"The only ghost I believe in is the Holy Ghost, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll come to your house to show you there ain't nothing to be afraid of."

"Thank you. You'll believe in ghosts soon enough, I promise you."

Ruth doubted it, but she didn't argue with her.

Instead, she took off her revival robe, revealing her dress underneath. The robe had been doing a fairly good job of hiding her condition, but now it was plain to see.

"You are going to have a baby," Electa said, her wide eyes getting wider. "This was a mistake. I'll find someone else. A priest maybe."

Ruth peeked behind the wagon. Her 4-year-old daughter, whose red blonde waves were gradually becoming a light auburn was flushed and laughing. Mercy was entertaining herself by spinning until she got dizzy and then watching the topsy-turvy world gradually right itself.

Ruth grinned and held out her robe. "Honey, can you put this up for me while I talk to the nice lady?"

"Yes, Momma," Mercy said coming over to get it in a rather zigzaggy line but managing to stay upright just the same.

"And you have a little girl. I really shouldn't have asked you to do this. Forget I said anything."

"No, I want to help. You want us to spend the night. Is that it?

Despite her earlier reluctance, she looked relieved that Sister Ruth was coming. "Yes. And maybe it won't be dangerous. After all, it has yet to harm me."

Ruth explained to Kid Electa's problem when he was done with the benches and he agreed that there was no harm in going to her house and checking it out.

They followed her the short distance to her home. Mercy counted the buildings as they went.

On the way, they learned Electa lived alone, her parents and brother having died not long after they'd settled here, which might go a long way in explaining her strange imaginings. She swore up and down she saw shadows and heard voices in the night. It was obvious that she really believed the house was haunted, but Ruth knew there had to be a logical explanation for both these occurrences.

Kid felt that way too, or at least he did until he saw a man out of the corner of his eye. He glimpsed him only for a second, but it was enough to recognize the thick lips, the blonde hair, the crooked nose. And he knew him because he had shot him. Saw him buried even. He was completely sure it was the same man because his was the face that he remembered the clearest of all in the list of the men he had shot because this was the man he'd accidentally won the title of fastest draw in the west from.

It couldn't be him. It just wasn't possible. He shook off the crawly feeling he had. It was all this talk of ghosts. There was certainly no one at that corner now. So why then did he feel as if he were being watched?


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth folded her arms across herself, resting them on the natural shelf her protruding stomach created, as she studied Electa's cabin. She had to admit that if she were a haint it was exactly the kind of house she'd choose to occupy.

The porch was caving in, the shutters hung sideways, and there were even 3 worn gravestones in the backyard. Presumably, Electra's family.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea," Kid said in her ear. "The stress of this might not be good for the baby."

"Why, Kid Cole, don't tell me you believe in ghosts."

"No. Not exactly. But something strange must be going on or could be she's just crazy." He looked over at Electa who was currently walking in circles and counting. "My bet's on crazy."

"Possibly, but most probably it's a branch scraping on the window pane or a hole letting the wind through, which we can point out to her, relieving her fears, and be on our way by morning."

"Again, I'm not saying it's a ghost, but what if it's more sinister than that? Like some kind of prowler?"

She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Then that's why you're here."

He grinned. "I thought it was cause you like having me around."

"Well, certainly that's part of it," she teased.

"I scared off the ghost for the time being," Electa announced. "It's safe to go inside."

"What's a ghost, Momma?" Mercy asked, taking her hand.

She had become a fountain of questions lately. Ruth answered carefully so as not to frighten her. "It's something silly that doesn't really exist."

"What does exist mean?"

"It means there's no such thing."

"Oh. Will we get to see one?" Mercy wanted to know. Ruth looked at Kid, who looked as if he was enjoying watching her dance around the issue.

"Here." They were in the kitchen now and she'd scooped up a handful of dried beans to put into Mercy's small hands. "See if you can count these beans. Just don't go putting any of them where they don't belong," she reminded her, recalling 2 months ago when she'd stuck a dried bean up her nose just to see what it would do.

She was giving Mercy something to do besides ask all these delicate questions, a trick she'd learned from her own mother. Anytime Ruth's chatter had started to annoy her busy mother, she'd found herself with a chore to do.

The inside of the house wasn't in much better shape than the outside. She'd never seen such a collection of stuff in such a small space and most of it looked to be more like junk than useful items. Electa was a packrat if there ever was one.

Ruth felt a sharp pain and smiled. She was relieved and happy every time the baby kicked, remembering her stillborn daughter. The kicks were proof that her son or daughter was alive and thriving.

Kid had figured out she was pregnant before she had. She'd laughed it off at the time, thinking there was no way he could tell that she was having a baby before she could, but morning sickness had proved him right not 2 weeks later.

"If there was a spook in here, I don't see how you could see it in all this mess," Kid whispered.

Ruth nudged him with her elbow.

"You all must be hungry," Electa said. "I've got hodgepodge on the stove. I just have to heat it up."

Neither Ruth nor Kid liked the sound of hodgpodge as it put them in mind of a mixture of food items that didn't go together, but they were too polite to ask what exactly it was a hodgepodge of and maybe they didn't want to know.

But the hodgepodge stew didn't turn out to be so bad. Goose was the meat and there was a mix of various fruits and vegetables and herbs, but the flavor ended up working somehow. Mercy picked and chose what she ate out of her bowl, but then kids were notoriously picky.

Electa showed them to where they would be sleeping. "My parents died in that bed," she mentioned.

Mercy cocked her head at the announcement, but fortunately she didn't look frightened.

"If you'd rather us sleep somewhere else..." Ruth began.

"No. I just hope it's their spirits haunting the place then I'd know there was nothing to fear because I know they love me."

"I don't believe that. Not that they don't love you, but I don't think anything's haunting anything."

"Tell me that in the morning," Electa said before abandoning them to the small bedroom.

Before Mercy could start asking what haunting was, Ruth said, "Time for bedtime prayers."

Kid got down on his knees at the bedside with Mercy. Ruth moved in closer to listen as Mercy recited,

"Now I lay me down to sleep,  
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,  
If I should die before I wake,  
I pray the Lord my soul to take,  
Amen."


	3. Chapter 3

A scream woke up all 3 Coles or 4 Coles for even the baby in Ruth's womb jumped as if it were startled.

Mercy crawled into her dad's lap and put her arms around him. "What was that?"

"I'm sure Electa just had a bad dream. I'll go check on her," Ruth said already out of bed.

"Uh, no you don't," Kid said. "I'm going to check it out first." He threw his shirt on without buttoning it and took his gun.

Mercy was getting too tall for her to pick up, especially in her condition, so she sat down and snuggled with her. "You've had bad dreams before. Remember? Bad dreams make people scream sometimes. That's all."

She nodded. "It scared me."

"I know, baby. Try to go back to sleep and you'll forget all about it."

It didn't take long for Kid to return. "She thinks she's seeing a g-h-o-s-t, but there ain't nothing there. She's crazy like I figured."

Ruth left Kid singing to try and get Mercy to fall back asleep.

"Electa, you alright?" Ruth said, knocking gently on the door before pushing it slowly open so as not to scare the frightened woman any further. She was still in bed with the cover pulled up to her neck, definitely looking like she'd seen a ghost. "Kid says you think you saw something."

"I don't think I saw something. I still see it. It's a dark, hooded figure at the foot of my bed and I don't think it's Ma or Pa, but then it might be, mightn't it? We probably don't look exactly the same after we die, do we?"

Ruth stepped closer, trying to see what Electa was mistaking for a humanlike figure and seeing nothing. She was clearly delusional because she saw nothing that could even be mistaken for one.

"It's scared of you," Electa said in a whisper. "It's backing away."

She looked again, in case she'd missed something. Was it Ruth's shadow she was seeing, but her shadow, made by the candle at Electa's bed, was pointing another direction entirely from where Electa was looking.

"Can I read you some verses I found? I think it'll make you feel better." She'd looked up some applicant verses before she'd gone to bed and marked them.

Electa nodded slowly as if afraid the sound of her voice would draw the shadowy figure back.

Ruth sat on the edge of the bed, and bringing the candle closer, read, "As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more."

"Truly?"

"Truly. It's just not possible for a soul to inhabit the earth after they've left their body. They've either gone to be with the Lord or to await judgment. They don't get to stay behind and haunt a house."

"But what if there's a reason they can't rest?"

She moved to another marked passage and read, "For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun."

"It doesn't matter if they're driven by love or hate to stay," Ruth explained. "They can't be a part of earthly matters anymore. Heaven or hell, there's no other choice. They have to go to one of those places whether they like it or not."

"But what is it I saw then?"

"I don't know, but I do know if you see a shadow, it's not the soul of the dead. Listen to this one. 'His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth; in that very day his thoughts perish.' Probably you only imagined it."

"Possibly," Electa said, but she didn't look convinced. "Anyway it's not here now, so thank you. Hearing those Bible verses did help."

"I'll go back to bed then. Just holler if you see or hear anything else."

Mercy had gone back to sleep. Kid was still awake. "Well?" he whispered.

"She's soothed for now, but this might take a little longer than we planned."

Kid didn't like the sound of that. He hadn't liked that they had been on the circuit this long, but he'd gone along with it, against his better judgment. "If you're insistent, I'll see if there's a midwife to be found out here in the middle of nowhere," he said emphasizing the middle of nowhere.

"I don't know if it'll take quite that long." As best she could tell she had a solid month and she was only talking a week maybe. Still, one could never be sure of anything where timetables were concerned, she'd learned.

"Just in case."

sss

With no ghost to eradicate, Ruth worked on eradicating the dust instead.

She'd asked permission first and Electa had not only agreed, but was helping. "I've really let it get out of hand, haven't I?"

"I'm not appalled by it. Just trying to keep busy is all and I admit I like order, but it's not like a dusty house is a deadly sin or anything."

Electa smiled. Then she not surprisingly sneezed, having just stirred up a rather large cloud of dust. It was muffled by her covering her mouth and nose, which wasn't so unordinary though she'd covered it rather firmly, but the strange part was she kept it there as she prayed out loud, "Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in earth. Give us day by day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil."

"I'm all for praying, but is there a reason you're praying and covering your mouth like that?" Ruth wanted to know.

"Don't you know that you'll lose your soul unless you keep it from flying out after you sneeze and say the Lord's prayer?"

Mercy was happily swiping away with a handkerchief of her own and though she wasn't very efficient, she was enjoying herself. She stopped though with this piece of information. She knew the word soul. She prayed about her soul every night and this time she was a little concerned. A soul was something the Lord was supposed to take, not a sneeze. "What?"

"Miss Electa's just joking," Ruth said.

Electa started to disagree, but Kid, who had been working at sharpening their knives, spoke up first. "You know what I was just thinking, baby doll? I saw some beautiful flowers not too far from here. Why don't we go on a walk and see if we can pick some of them? We can also see what animals we can find while we're at it. I bet I can find more animals than you."

"Uh-huh." she said, jumping up excitedly. "I'm going to find more animals, Daddy!"

Ruth mouthed a thank you to Kid.

She had met superstitious people before, but most people followed them without much thought behind it or did it for a laugh. For Electa, it appeared it was a part of her daily life and she believed in the superstitions wholeheartedly.

With Kid and Mercy gone, she said, "Please, don't be talking about anything supernatural in front of her. I'm sure you know how easily frightened a kid can become. Where'd you learn all this, the circling you were doing yesterday and the sneezing thing?"

"Here and there. I'm a Christian if that's what your angling at. My father was a Freemason."

She knew some things about the organization. One being, that it only required believing in a supreme being, no matter who that supreme being was. Though Christians made up most of the members, there was not a emphasis on the person of Jesus by any means and it was very heavy on symbolism. It did do nice service for the community a lot of times, but it wasn't a religion in itself. "Your parents then?"

"Some of it. Why?"

"Well, maybe some of that is making you see things that aren't really there."

"But it was. I saw it again briefly when I woke up this morning. I don't know why you can't see, but I can. Maybe it wasn't a ghost, but something is in here. And I need you to make it go away like you did last night. Sprinkle all the rooms with holy water or bless the house. Do whatever it is ministers have to do."

Ruth sighed. Yes, it was going to be a much longer trip than they'd planned.


	4. Chapter 4

"Do ya'll have a midwife here?" Kid asked a man who was repairing his fence.

The blonde man stopped and wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. "That would be Mrs. Mattsson," he answered in a heavy Swedish accent. "She has got plenty experience."

Kid thanked him and followed the simple directions to the house he gave.

He soon saw what the man had meant about her having plenty of experience. There were a least 5 children playing in the yard and it sounded like there might be a few more in the house.

The woman had seen him coming or had been alerted by one of the children. She waited for him just outside her front door. Mercy strayed a little ways from him to watch the children play from the sidelines.

"I was told you deliver the babies, Mrs. Mattsson?" he asked.

"I do. Your wife expecting, Mr. Cole?"

"She is and we're not getting away as quick as we thought. We're staying with Electa. You know her?"

"Of course. You've seen the size of our community. The woman's a loon to put it mildly."

Kid said nothing to that but asked, "You delivered many babies then?"

"I have. Had plenty of my own too as you can see. I lost 2 sons to smallpox, but nary a one to childbirth. I haven't been acting as midwife long, but I haven't lost nobody else's child either."

"That's good to know. So we can call on you if her time comes?"

"Would you kindly wipe your feet?" she shouted to a muddy-footed child that had run past her into the house. The boy ran back and half attempted wiping them off on the rug before returning to his earlier mad dash. "Sorry about that. I'll be here. There's nowhere else for me to be," she said, sounding a little bitter about that fact.

Kid took Mercy's hand and they went to find the wildflowers he'd promised her.

"I want a sister or a brother," Mercy declared wistfully. "To play with."

"I know you do. You might get one before you know it."

"Could Mrs. Mattsson give us one of hers?"

"No, I think she loves them a little too much for that."

"Oh," she said, disappointed, but her disappointment lasted only a few seconds before she was on to her next question. "Daddy, do you know where babies come from?"

He cringed. It was the question no father ever wanted to hear and he gave the answer thousands, perhaps millions, of men had given before him. "Ask your mother."

He realized he could go the traditional route and tell her babies were brought by the stork, but if he knew Ruth and he did, she would want to be as honest as they could get away with and he would stumble over the explanation. It was really something they should tell her together anyway.

"You don't know either?" she asked, looking up at him with wide-eyed innocence.

"Well, I know, but mothers are better at explaining."

"Oh. So Momma knows where babies come from?"

"I'm certain of it."

"Is it like baby birds? Do they come from eggs?" She still remembered them finding a nest of bird eggs earlier that summer.

"Yeah, it's sort of like that. I guess."

She was thinking hard on that answer. He was grateful when they reached the field, giving her something to do besides ask difficult questions.

She gathered herself a little bouquet made up mostly of these pinkish-purple, spotted flowers with a maroon and white one thrown in.

He pointed her in the direction of some of the wildlife with little comments like "Isn't that sky so blue?" or "There's a nice flower over there." All the time pretending not to see the animals until she did.

Kid wished wildlife had been all they saw, but there was no mistaking it this time when he saw him as he was much closer than last time. It was the man he'd killed without a doubt; the familiar scar on his forehead proved it. The man stood eerily watching him, rooted to his spot.

Kid didn't know what to do, but whether he was spirit or flesh, he knew he had to get Mercy out of there. He scooped her up against his chest and ran for Electa's cabin as fast as his long legs would carry him. Mercy clutched her flowers tightly all the way, not loosing a single petal, though she'd had no impending warning of this impromptu flight.

"We goed fast!" Mercy exclaimed as they came through the door.

"You haven't been gone very long," Electa agreed. "Those flowers look thirsty. You want to give them a drink?" She was eager to make good with the girl after unintentionally scaring her about losing her soul in a sneeze.

Mercy shyly followed her for the sake of her flowers.

Kid was leaning against the door as if he expected someone to start tearing it down at any moment. He was trying to slow his heavy breathing as he asked, "Is insanity catching?"

Ruth's concern deepened. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Because I've just seen a ghost."


	5. Chapter 5

"What on earth do you mean?" Ruth asked. "Are you saying you see the hooded figures now too?"

"No, not a hooded figure. The ghost of someone I know, someone I killed. The man who was the fastest draw before me."

"Maybe you were wrong. About his really being dead, I mean. Or maybe he's just someone who looks a lot like him."

"No, there was the very same scar. And I saw his body after I shot him. Trust me, there was no heartbeat. No breath in his body. The doctor confirmed it. I watched him get buried. He's dead, and I saw him just as clearly as you see me right now."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "There's some kind of explanation. I know it."

"If there is. I'd like to hear it. You think I'm out of my mind, don't you?" He turned to Mercy who was back in the room, carrying her flowers in a tin cup. "Did you see the man there while we were picking flowers?" he asked her.

"What man, Daddy?"

"Never mind, baby," Kid said. He could see at once that she hadn't, but it didn't necessarily mean anything one way or the other. Mercy wasn't a very careful observer of her surroundings, he'd noticed.

"See my flowers, Momma?"

"They're beautiful," she exclaimed.

"They're for you," she said, offering the cup up.

Ruth took it from her, smelling them for Mercy's benefit. "Thank you, honey. They'll make the table look real fine when we eat our lunch."

"Speaking of lunch, how would you like to help me make it?" Electa asked. "I could use a little helper."

Mercy nodded and followed her back. Ruth and Kid were both grateful to Electa for sensing they were in the middle of a heavy conversation and giving them the opportunity to finish it.

"You know sometimes we glimpse things out of the corner of our eyes and we-" Ruth started to say.

"I've seen him twice now," he said, interrupting her.

"But there ain't no such things as haints. If the Bible says it's so, it's so."

There were times he envied her for her strong faith and this was one of them. "But I have known people who swear up and down they've seen or heard a ghost."

"What people? Men in their cups?" she asked skeptically.

"Not always. They're regular people, who are sound of mind in every other respect. Sometimes they see the ghosts of their departed loved ones, who told them things that only they could know, and sometimes it was someone they didn't know. Sometimes more than one person sees the same ghost. So how do you explain that?" He rather hoped she could.

"Well, it was obviously something they had to know too, so maybe they just dreamed or imagined it on their own. But outside that, it could be demons, I suppose. I don't believe they'd be above impersonating souls of departed people if it would cause someone to doubt God and stay lost. I have no doubt demons can sometimes be seen or heard when it suits them. And wouldn't they know things that people just think only so-and-so could know, since they roam the earth and have done so long before we were ever born.

She quoted a Bible verse to him. "'Be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.' That's not figurative speech, you know. Demons are on the earth, active, and trying to drag as many people as they can to hell. Possessions may not happen today, but they find plenty of other effective ways to keep people from the Kingdom."

Kid could feel the hairs on his arms and neck stand up. He suddenly hoped it was a ghost after all. Better that than demonic forces.

Ruth didn't look frightened. She looked thoughtful. She hadn't considered the possibility that Electa might have seen a demon. She still wasn't completely convinced that she had, but it was important to stay open-minded about it until she got to the root of Electa's problem. She needed to know more about her situation to truly make a judgment.

"You think I'm seeing a demon then?" Kid asked, making her forget about Electa for the moment.

"I think that whoever or whatever he is, it's important to remember you have Jesus. I wouldn't run from him next time. I would confront him. See what he wants. See if he's flesh and blood because my guess is he is. Just be careful when you do."

It made sense. It was advice that he would have given if someone had asked him. It was just easier said than done when you knew that man had to be dead.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think I'll go clean my gun."

The implication was clear. He wanted the gun in perfect working order in case it was Arthur Walsh by some miracle and he had to prove once again whose draw was fastest.

Ruth went to see if she could help with lunch too. Sometime a 4-year-old was more work than they were help in the kitchen.

Electa had just spilled the salt when she walked in. The superstitious woman took a pinch of it and threw it over her shoulder, supposedly warding off the devil by blinding him. That was a superstition she was familiar with.

A sobering thought came to Ruth. If it was true that it was Satan who was the source of Electa's troubles, it was going to take more than salt to get him away from her.


	6. Chapter 6

"Was last night the first time you've actually seen anything?" Ruth asked Electa as she helped by slicing the bread.

"I've just heard voices before. It's-I feel like it's getting worse."

"Just at night you hear and see these things?" The night could play tricks on a person.

"Mostly at night. I wake up and I can't move. Can't even scream at first and I know it's there in the darkness. I'm convinced now it's an evil presence. Whatever it is, it scares me."

"I imagine it would," Ruth said, setting the knife down.

"You still don't believe I'm seeing something that's real, do you?"

"I'm not doubting what you're saying. I'm just trying to understand it better. I'll be honest though, I've never met anyone who's told me they've seen a spirit before and wasn't lying about it for their own purposes like holding a séance in exchange for money or getting carried away when the situation had a simpler explanation. But I'll grant you that there are evil spirits out there, they're called demons, and maybe you can see them when they or God wills it. Have you been praying about it?"

"Well, certainly. At least a little. Sometimes the fear overtakes me and praying is the last thing I think about while it's happening. That's why I knew you were a godsend when I heard you were here, holding a revival. We don't have a preacher that comes through and I knew you could help me."

"My advice to you is to pray over it more. I'm going to pray on it too, Electa. That the Lord will show me how I can help you. And I'm going to study scripture and pray for discernment in the matter. You should too."

In the course of their conversation, Ruth hadn't seen that Mercy had found an egg and put it on the table, studying it with intent interest and expectation.

Mercy noticed the adult conversation had stopped and she asked her, "Momma, how do you get the babies to come out of the eggs?"

"The mama bird keeps them warm and they come out when they're good and ready."

Ruth went to tell Kid lunch was ready when she came back with him, they found their daughter was squatted over the egg somewhat like a chicken, but taking great care not to crush it.

"What are you doing?" Ruth asked with a laugh.

"Trying to make the baby come out. I want a baby sister or brother to play with."

"Honey, only chickens come out of those eggs and then only when a momma hen and rooster are taking care of it. Where did you get the idea that you could get a sister or brother from an egg?"

"From Daddy," she said, pointing at him.

Ruth turned to Kid for an explanation, who shook his head. Then he remembered Mercy mentioning something about an egg. "Well, not directly anyway."

"So where do babies come from?" Mercy asked.

"From God," Ruth answered. "He gives them to people when He wants a mommy and daddy to have them."

"Oh." That made sense to her young mind.

Kid couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of that ridiculously simple but true answer. Then Mercy fired away with her next question. "Well, when does God give them to people?" He smiled as he waited for her to answer that one.

"In His own time, pumpkin, not when we think He should. But He's going to give us one very soon I hope. That's enough questions for now though. It's time to eat."

Kid lifted Mercy into one of the chairs and picked up the egg, shaking his head at some of the strange ideas kids got. He watched as Electa looked under the table as if checking for spirits before she sat down. Then again it wasn't always just kids.

sss

Kid got the prickly feeling that he was being watched though Mercy and Ruth were fast asleep. He carefully eased out of bed, leaving only a slight depression of his body on the feather mattress.

He went to the window to draw the curtains shut though there were no neighbors that could peek in. Only the tiniest sliver of moon was out and just a sprinkling of stars, making it too dark to see the man's face, but he knew it was him and that he was watching the house.

This ended tonight. Kid left the house quietly so as not to disturb any of the sleeping occupants, but once outside he broke into a full run, determined to tackle the figure. He/it sensed his intent and also ran but away not towards.

A cloud passed over the moon, plunging the landscape into darkness. Kid was forced to stop lest he trip or miss his query altogether. By the time the light returned, Walsh was nowhere to be seen.

The disappearance was a little eerie, but would a mere spirit run from him if he gave chase? Maybe. If he was intent on tormenting him. And it was tormenting him not to know what he wanted or even exactly who he was was.

Tomorrow he was going to turn this whole area upside down until he found him. Hiding on the prairie with few trees or hills was slim to none unless you were a prairie dog. Kid would find him if he could be found.


	7. Chapter 7

Ruth woke to see her wedding ring dangling on a thread just over her stomach, swinging back and forth like the pendulum of a clock. She, still thick with the fog of sleep, spent a few seconds following its path with her eyes, trying to make sense of it being there. Her eyes slowly traveled up to the holder of the thread and she wasn't so very surprised to find it was Electa.

"What in the name of heaven are you doing?" she asked the young woman.

"You're going to have a boy," she announced proudly.

"What?" It was too early in the morning for this, Ruth thought to herself.

"I saw your ring sitting right there by the candle." Ruth wore it around her neck on a chain because pregnancy had made it too tight for her finger. "The praying worked. I had no episode last night and I wanted to do something to show how thankful I am. I thought telling you what you're going to have would be a good way to do that."

Ruth shook her head. "You've got to stop doing that. It's putting your faith in objects and random events and rituals instead of in God and that ain't right. There's a difference between harmless fun and what you're doing."

"I didn't think about it that way. I'm sorry if I offended you. I'll let you get dressed now." She deposited the ring and thread into her hand.

"Thank you," she said and then watched the woman leave. She looked in the bed beside her. Mercy was still asleep, but Kid was nowhere to be seen.

Ruth got up and examined herself from the side in the wavy mirror. She was carrying rather low. Maybe it was going to be a boy, not that she put any stock in that silly ring method. Oh well, no way was for certain. She would know whether it was going to be a boy or girl soon enough. Still, it would be nice to have a son since they already had a daughter, but she would be happy with whatever God blessed them with.

"I saw Electa leaving the room," Kid said, coming into the room with his morning coffee and bringing her a cup too. "What'd she want?"

"More foolishness. She means well, I guess," she said, blowing the steam away before she took a sip.

"I'm going out as soon as I finish this cup."

"Where you going? To chase down your 'ghost'?"

"Yeah," he admitted, looking down into his cup as if he hoped to see some answers in its dark liquid depths. "I saw him last night."

"You did? Why didn't you wake me?"

"Cause you need all the rest you can get with the baby on the way."

She didn't complain though she still thought he should've woken her. She knew he was already being generous by letting them stay here. She too would've like to have been in a bigger area by now, but sometimes things didn't go according to plan. She trusted it would all work out.

When Kid finished his coffee, he kissed her goodbye and then kissed the forehead of the sleeping Mercy.

Ruth got dressed and put her ring back on its chain and the chain around her neck. She took the thread out to Electa's basket of sewing supplies.

She had just put the black thread in when Mercy came running around the corner and bumped into her, spilling the contents of the basket.

"Sorry, Momma," she said immediately, looking afraid she'd get in trouble.

Ruth had kept her balance but had dropped the basket. "It's okay, baby, but that's why we don't run when we're inside. Help me pick up Miss Electa's things."

Mercy found an object she particularly liked and held it up to show Ruth. "Look, Momma, a beautiful lady. She must be a princess. Can I keep it?"

She let out a small gasp as she took a closer look at the card that she was holding up. Electa was dabbling in much worse things than superstitions.

sss

"I don't know any Arthur Walsh," the storekeeper said.

It wasn't so much of a store though as it was a trading post. It was the only public building in the village though and it seemed a good place to start.

"Maybe he don't go by Arthur Walsh. He's a blonde man with a jagged scar running down his forehead."

"That sounds like Darnell Freeman." The shopkeeper folded his arms, waiting for Kid to tell him more about why he was looking for him.

Kid had no intention of giving it. Instead, he asked, "And he lives around here?"

"I don't know. I'm a merchant. I don't got the time to sit around and pass the time of day, especially not with folks who aren't looking to buy anything."

Kid's eyes narrowed. It wasn't like the store was full of busy customers waiting to be waited on. He was the sole person standing inside the small space, but he got the message loud and clear. If he wanted answers, he was going to have to pay for them. They were getting low on coffee, so he picked up a bag.

"He's been in my store a time or two," the storekeeper said after he'd been paid, suddenly finding the time to talk after all. "Bought food and bullets. Couldn't tell you for sure if the man lives around here, but he very well might."

If he'd have bought something they hadn't really needed, he would've been one angry man. But he'd gotten the new name Walsh was going by, so that was something.

Walsh had to be here in the flesh, not a figment of his imagination or a demon masquerading as a ghost, Kid realized as he stepped into the late summer sunshine. And that information alone was worth buying the coffee, he supposed. But how on earth did he survive a gun wound to the stomach? He had died before surgery could even be attempted, not that surgeries to the stomach in the 1820s had been all that common or successful, but the bottom line was he should have been dead, had to be dead. And yet, he wasn't.

And that was as disconcerting to Kid as if he had been something supernatural. Because if he was alive, what did he want with him? Revenge for being shot? Did he want to win his title back? And if he did, how could he be sure he'd win this time when they were so closely matched in speed?


	8. Chapter 8

Electa was looking for something in the piles of blankets and clothes that littered the floor. Her room was in total shambles.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Ruth asked.

She had left Mercy with her breakfast after getting her mind off the card with the promise that they'd look for a picture book about a princess the next time they were in a city with a bookstore.

"Sure. I was just looking for my stocking with the hole. I figured I might as well darn it with the thread I'd cut off." She stood up and walked over.

Ruth held out the tarot cards and asked though she already knew, "What are these?"

Electa flushed. "I play with them sometimes, but I don't take them seriously. My grandmother brought them over with her. It's like an heirloom really."

"They're evil."

"Don't you think evil's a little strong?" Electa asked, but she sounded nervous.

"Divination is a sin in any form because you're not asking God, you're asking spirits. You don't know the future and those silly cards can't tell you anything worthwhile."

"But I don't know that they are completely silly. I'm improving my reading of them all the time. I knew there was a visitor coming to town with great power days before your arrival was announced."

"If you're getting real results, that's even more worrisome because as I said it's not from God."

She paled. "You mean they're from the devil?"

"Build a fire and throw them in," Ruth ordered.

"Do I have to? What if I just keep them and don't use them?"

"It would be an unnecessary temptation. Can I read you a verse from the Bible?"

Electa nodded.

"And when they shall say unto you, Seek unto them that have familiar spirits, and unto wizards that peep, and that mutter: should not a people seek unto their God? for the living to the dead?"

Electa looked as is she were struggling a little over the old language, so Ruth explained, "Anytime you're asking something about the future or just about your life and it's not God you're asking, something's wrong. You don't ask mediums or witches or the dead or any of that foolish stuff. That's all darkness, lies from the enemy. You can't cling to the darkness if you have the light in you. Do you read your Bible daily?"

"I can't. I don't know how to read."

It was a common enough occurrence. This country needed for more people to receive an education if for no other reason than so a person could read God's Word, so they wouldn't be led astray. And more preachers were needed out west. Holy ministers, who weren't preaching politics or their own agenda but directly from the Bible.

This town lacked both a school and a church, but there had to be someone who could read in it. "Maybe the people of your community could take turns holding worship services in your houses. You could hear the Bible read, sing songs together, and pray together."

"I'd like that. Would you help me get it started?"

It would be more time spent here, making having the baby here more of a certainty. "Of course, I will.

Electa crouched down and built a fire in the small fireplace. She threw in the first card.

"What's wrong?" Ruth could tell something was from the way her body suddenly tensed up.

"I'm hearing the voices again."

Ruth didn't hear anything, but she didn't try to discount her. "Are they saying something to you?"

"Wait. It's just one voice. It's telling me to stop." She let out a small gasp. "It sounds like my mother. She doesn't want me to burn the cards."

Whether she was frozen in fear or in reluctance to disobey her mother's voice, it was hard to say, but she took Electa's cold hands into hers and prayed, "Lord, I ask that You give my sister, Electa, courage to withstand the darts of the enemy, to see through his tricks, and help her resist the temptation to hold onto the cards and anything else not pleasing to You. We ask these things in the name of Jesus Christ."

The prayer seemed to work and Electa threw more cards in but then she stopped again. "There's something in the fire. A pair of eyes. It's a warning. They'll never let me go."

Ruth didn't know for sure if what Electa was seeing was the result of an unwell mind or if she was being plagued by a real demon, but either way she needed healing as much as any sick person and she did know how to help her with that. She put her hands on her and asked, "Do you believe, sister, that Jesus is the Son of God and that He can heal you from all this by His power?"

"Yes," Electa said, her yes sounding more like a squeak than an actual word, but it was enough.

"Feel His presence moving in you. Do you feel it?"

"I do," she said vigorously shaking her head in the affirmative.

"Then command the demon to be gone in the name of Jesus Christ."

"I command you be gone in the name of Jesus Christ." Electa's knees buckled, but Ruth held onto her. "I'm so tired all of a sudden."

"You look it. Why don't you lay down and rest? Is it gone?"

"I think so." Electa took the rest of the cards and threw them into the now blazing fire before letting Sister Ruth lead her to bed.

sss

Ruth was reading by candlelight. She was reading in the Bible about the female slave, who could predict the future because of a spirit. It seemed to have more meaning in the light of dealing with Electa and she was able to look on it with new eyes.

Kid came through the door just as the earthquake was rocking the prison. "You didn't have to wait up," he said.

She closed her Bible with a soft thud. "I couldn't have slept if I'd wanted to. I think I did battle with a demon today," she said slowly.

"Don't you do that every day?" he asked.

"I'm serious, but I suppose we all do in a way. Of course, I didn't really do anything to drive it away. It was by the power of Christ. What about you? Did you find him?"

"He's real alright, not a demon. Got the name he's going by from the storekeeper. Went door-to-door all day asking about him. Some folks had heard his false name, but he must be new to the area for they don't know much else and no one could tell me where he lived."

"Well, don't give up yet."

"I'm not. Oh, I forgot to give the horses their water. I want to hear more about what happened with you, but I better take care of them first."

"You got to sit down first."

"What?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Just remembering one of my aunt's superstitions. She followed it for a laugh, I think, but I don't think we realize how something can start out so innocent and lead you so deep into sin. I don't think Electa intended on calling a demon into her life. It started out by playing around with a card deck and then when she was in danger of turning from it, that's when it really manifested itself."

"I guess the demons look at it as why waste your energy on someone already on the road to hell? It's when a person's in danger of leaving it that they have to worry, but you were able to help her then? No more hauntings or whatever you'd call them?"

"I don't think so, but time will tell, I guess."


	9. Chapter 9

"Can I go with you?" Mercy pleaded with her father the next morning.

He lifted her up and kissed her cheek. "Not this time but very soon. I'll see you tonight though. Maybe even sooner with any luck."

Ruth gave him the lunch she had gotten together for him. He kissed her and then opened the door to go, but a little bird with purple-blue feathers flew into the house and perched on the arm of a chair as if it intended on making itself right at home.

"Oh, no! Somebody's going to die," Electa cried woefully.

While Mercy clung to Ruth's leg both fascinated and unsure of their feathered visitor, Kid grabbed up a broom and chased it back out.

"Nobody's going to die. not even the bird," Kid said, setting the broom back. "Now let me try this again. See ya'll tonight."

Mercy and Ruth waved him off again.

Electa looked embarrassed and wrung her hands as she looked over at Ruth. "Sorry, I guess omens are probably not biblical either. I've got some hard habits to break."

"That's understandable. The fact that you want to break them pleases God."

"I don't know. I think my soul belongs to the devil," she said in a hushed whisper either to keep Mercy from hearing, who was busy looking at the picture book she'd gotten for her birthday and making up a story to match the pictures, or she feared the comment would attract demons to her again.

"Not a possibility," Ruth said surely and quoted Ezekiel 18:4 from memory, "Behold, all souls are mine."

"That's God speaking?"

"It sure is. Your soul doesn't even belong to yourself. It belongs to Him," she said, pointing upward.

Electa suddenly seemed to remember something and she went rummaging in the trunk in the living room, scattering all sorts of random items on the floor from rocks and shells to books.

She found the object she sought at last though and put a furry gray paw in Ruth's hand. It wasn't the most attractive thing Ruth ever seen, ratty and worn.

"It's a lucky rabbit's foot," Electa said. "Maybe it's not as evil as the tarot cards, but I did believe in its luck in the back of my mind and I want nothing in my house that's even remotely connected with sorcery or superstition."

"Good for you," she said, handing it back to her.

Ruth helped search for anymore forgotten talismans and fixed some of the clutter that had silently been driving her crazy while she was at it. She couldn't do much bending over at this point only a little bending at the knees, but she mostly searched the high places and Electa the low.

They found a handful of items linked to occult practices and they burned them like they had the cards.

With that out of the way, they went to see about starting up a worship service for this coming Sunday.

Ruth was at the stage of her pregnancy where she waddled like a duck and her little duckling, Mercy, skipped after her as they went door-to-door. Ruth let Electa do the talking. She was along just for moral support.

Most were enthusiastic about the idea, others more lukewarm about it, and there was one skeptic.

The farmer folded his arms and planted his feet in a defiant stance after Electa had told him. "I don't see why we should meet together when we can worship with our families at home just as well. If we had a preacher, it might be a different story, but we don't."

Electa's mind blanked and she stuttered to explain.

Ruth jumped in and rescued her. "Because it's commanded of us in the Bible. Why the first churches were in people's home. A church is the people not a place. And we are blessed when we come togethet because we can encourage one another in the faith, so we can better love and do good works."

Like Ruth expected, though he probably still disagreed with it on some level, he was all hot air and he backed down immediately, "Of course, when you put it that way, maybe it does have merit."

"Good. Because the first service will be held at Miss Electa's this Sunday. We'll see you and your family there. Bring your Bible."

They left before the farmer had a chance to regain his tongue and find a reason to beg off.

"I wish I had your courage," Electa said enviously when they were out of the farmer's hearing distance.

"It's not courage so much as knowing my foundation is solid because it's built on God's Word. Why should I be afraid to stand up and say what I know is truth?"

sss

Ruth was waiting up on Kid just like the previous night.

"He might as well be a real ghost," he grumbled as he sat down beside her.

"So you haven't seen anymore glimpses of him since the night before last?"

"No, he evaporated with the moonlight apparently."

"Well, maybe you scared him off," Ruth said with a note of hope in her voice.

"Then why'd I see him on 2 separate occasions?" he asked, putting one arm around her and the other on her belly, hoping to feel their baby kick. "I think he's waiting on something."

"Waiting on what?" she asked, latching onto the hand that dangled beside her.

"That's the part that worries me. I don't know."


	10. Chapter 10

Ruth's feet were swollen and she had her shoes off and her feet propped up on the closed trunk.

Electa was sweeping the living room. She was devoting more time to housekeeping than she likely did on a normal basis. She was no doubt nervous about Sunday and wanted to make sure the house was spotless.

She held the broom in midair when she got to Ruth with a look of hesitation, at war with herself.

"I know what you're thinking: sweep under my feet and I'll never get married to which I say too little too late."

Electa gave a little grin and swept under her feet. So many little things like this to overcome. She felt sometimes like the demon was hovering somewhere in the room, waiting for her to mess up, so it could have her again, but God would have the victory. She was sure of it because when she felt like that, she prayed.

Kid came into the room. "I'm going to look one more day and if I can't find him we'll be on our way to Jefferson City tomorrow."

"Oh, no, please stay until Sunday or even until after you've had the baby," Electa entreated them both. "Mrs. Mattsson is very good with deliveries. Not that I'd know firsthand, of course, but I've heard it said."

Ruth looked up at Kid. "It could be risky. I know it's a bigger area, but it's 2 days to Jefferson City. Maybe it is too late to be thinking about that long a travel time. I'm not afraid to have it here."

"We'll talk about it tonight. In the meantime, stay off your feet." He kissed the top of her head. "Kiss Mercy for me when she wakes up, and I'll be home in time for supper tonight."

sss

"Oh, in all this getting the house clean, I forgot to feed the chickens and gather the eggs," Electa suddenly complained in the middle of fixing supper.

"I'll do it," Ruth said. She felt like going outside after being inside all day.

"You've done enough."

"Nonsense. I miss living on a farm, taking care of chickens. That used to be my chore growing up. You'll be doing me a favor."

"Well, when you put it like that."

So Ruth went out to take care of them. Mercy was napping. She'd went to bed late last night waiting for Kid to come home and was making up for it now.

She brought out a small apronful of corn from the wooden barrel and scattered it just outside the henhouse door. While they were busy gobbling down the corn, she searched through the straw for the eggs which seemed to be few despite the large number of chickens.

With Electa's problem taken care of, her mind was consumed with Kid's "ghost". She was trying to work out the puzzle of how the man had survived and what he wanted now going by the little information they had.

She was so consumed by her thoughts, she wasn't aware there was another human being in there until she felt the cool metal muzzle of a pistol push against her lower back. The egg in her hand fell and the yolk splattered on the floor.

"Move it, lady, and if you scream or even make a sound, I'll pull the trigger," he warned in a throaty whisper.

It was hard to swallow the scream bubbling up inside of her, but she did. She was marched outside and she wondered if Electa or Mercy could see her from the house. She prayed Mercy didn't. For the man she assumed was Walsh might decide Kid's daughter would make good leverage in whatever scheme he planned if she came running out.

They walked a good distance until her feet really started to hurt. He stopped her in front of a beautiful brown horse with a striking black tail and mane. She had been totally silent to this point as per his instructions, but when she saw what he intended, she couldn't help but protest. "I can't ride horseback, especially not on a spirited animal like this." A fact she had picked up on from its snorts and restless pawing of the ground. "I'm having a baby."

"Too bad. Get up on that horse or be shot. That won't be good for the baby either, you know." He dug the muzzle painfully deeper into her side. The child in her womb started kicking like crazy. She hoped it hadn't felt that jab of pain like she had. Maybe it was just reacting to her distress.

She immediately put her foot in the stirrup, but struggled to lift herself up in her condition.

He impatiently shoved her up and then swung himself up behind her.

It was uncomfortable just sitting like this and she worried about the coming jarring and jostling and how it was going to affect the baby because she knew he wasn't going to take the horse on a gentle trot in his effort to get away with her quickly before she was missed. "Oh, Lord," she pleaded out loud.

"Shut up. I'll tell you when you can talk."


	11. Chapter 11

The horseback ride could have been worse all in all. Ruth hurt from it but not as bad as she could have. Walsh had brought her to a little cabin. From his familiarity of it and the unconcern that anyone would surprise them, it was his cabin.

"You're Arthur Walsh," she said after he'd taken her inside, forgetting he'd told her not to talk.

"So he did get a good look at me. That's what I thought. And I don't go by that name anymore."

"So I heard. How are you still alive?"

"Quite the mystery, isn't it? Unfortunately, you're not here to get answers."

She swallowed her fear and asked the question most on her mind. "Will you at least tell me what you're planning on doing with me?"

"If you're cooperative, absolutely nothing. I'm not going to hurt you unless you force me to. Just remember I have a gun."

"How could I forget?" she asked, feeling the bruise forming on her side from earlier.

"I simply want you to talk to your husband. Tell him to lay off searching for me."

"What do you mean?"

"My life is good or it's getting good. I don't need him coming in and screwing it up for me. I'm tired of moving around because someone recognizes me, but it looks like I'm going to have to do it just one more time. Of all the people who could have recognized me...I will kill him and you and your little girl if he comes after me or tells anyone I'm alive. Be sure to tell him that."

"You didn't mean for him to see you, did you?"

"You catch on quick," he said, curling up his lip in a jeering manner.

"Well, I can assure you that he could care less if you want to keep living on in anonymity. He was just afraid you wanted to do something to him."

"Well, that makes me very happy. I can't tell you how relieved I am."

"So that's it then? I'm free to go?" It seemed too good to be true.

"Well, I didn't say that. You'll tell him where I am and then he'll come after me for kidnapping you before I've gotten a chance to escape. No, you're staying here. I'm going to tie you up and leave you while I get away. I have faith that your husband's a good enough tracker to find you. Though admittedly he hasn't been doing a great job of finding me."

He laughed as he had her sit down on a rickety wooden chair, pushing her down by her shoulder though she wasn't putting up a fight. "It's funny really. I was right there in the chicken coop all this time. The one place I knew he wouldn't look was right where he was. Living solely off the eggs was getting tiring though. It was good fortune you came to feed the chickens or who knows how long I would've been in there?"

He was looking for something to tie her down with. Clearly not much planning had gone into this. Her kidnapping must have been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He decided on his belt and began taking it off.

She'd been having little contractions that she had hoped were only lingering pains from the ride or stress, but a contraction hit her good and hard all but doubling her over. The tiny trickle down her leg telling her what she'd feared. "The baby's coming."

"You're lying," he accused, but he didn't look too sure.

She screamed. It did hurt, but she exaggerated it a little to convince him of the reality of the impending birth. The last thing she needed was to be tied up during labor.

The scream convinced him. His eyes bugged out and he ran, leaving his belt at her feet. He rode away on his horse like hellhounds were snapping at his feet.

She kicked the belt away as she got up and tried the door. He hadn't locked her in, but she could tell from the short time between the contractions that the baby was coming much faster than with her previous pregnancies. She didn't have time to go back to Electa's, especially considering it would be on foot and that was assuming she remembered the way back perfectly.

No, this baby was going to be born right here in this cabin. And she was going to have this baby alone. Well, not alone. God would be with her.

She laid down on the bed, praying lying out flat would stop the contractions, so she could think clearly about what to do. It didn't. In fact, she had the overwhelming urge to push.

 **"** The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want," she told herself out loud in an effort calm herself.

She got her petticoats and chemise out of the way and got herself into the delivery position, trying to recall everything her previous midwives had done.

Childbirth was a natural process. The Lord had made it so. After all, Eve hadn't exactly had a midwife in Adam. How she wished Kid were here now.

Though she'd been trying to hold back on the pushing and take it slow on the chance that Kid or Electa or anybody would arrive to help, her body was taking over and she had no choice but to push.


	12. Chapter 12

Supper was ready and on the table. Mercy climbed onto one of the chairs and looked ready to eat.

Electa rubbed her hands nervously on her skirt. "You go ahead and eat. I'm going to go look for your parents."

"But we haven't said grace," Mercy said, looking quite scandalized.

"Oh, right. Of course. Well, you say it then."

"God is great, God is good  
And we thank Him for our food  
By His hands we all are fed,  
Give us, Lord, our daily bread.  
Amen."

Electa should have been moving to the door, but that seemed a rude thing to do in the middle of a prayer to the Almighty, even during a child's prayer or maybe especially during a child's prayer. "Amen."

She hurried out to the henhouse for Ruth should have long been back. It was empty and she knew Ruth well enough by now to know she wouldn't have left the door open and the lid off the barrel of corn.

She couldn't just leave to get Kid with Mercy in the house and even if she could, she had no idea where to find him, so she paced in front of the house, waiting for his return.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long. She ran toward him as soon as she spotted him and shouted, "Sister Ruth's gone!"

"What do you mean she's gone?"

"She was collecting eggs." He frowned at this part. She was supposed to be resting, but she never could keep still. He didn't interrupt though. "And she never came back."

Kid went into the henhouse to see for himself and saw the broken egg. "Did anybody come to see you today?"

"Not that I know of. Oh, no. Oh, no. This is terrible! She's been taken!"

"I'm going after her. Will you keep an eye on Mercy?"

"Yes. Yes, of course, I will." Not all devils were spirit, she realized. Some were flesh and blood. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to harm a lady like Sister Ruth, but she prayed she was alright.

sss

Ruth felt the head and shoulders crown with her push. She sat up a little more to prepare to "catch" her baby and she got a good look at it. She'd never seen the miracle of birth from this angle before.

To her horror, the cord was wrapped around the neck and the skin was a little blue about the mouth, but lots of babies were a little blue when they were first born, she reminded herself. Nonetheless, it brought back all the terror and pain of losing her second baby in childbirth and she had to remind herself to breathe.

She tried to slip the cord off gently, but it was too tight. She didn't know what to do but pray and push. "Oh Lord, please let this baby live."

She put her hands underneath the head and pushed again. If it was trapped by the cord, she didn't know what to do. They'd both die as she had no sharp implements handy to cut the cord.

Mercifully, the additional push brought her baby into the world. It almost slipped right out of her hands. She hadn't counted on a newborn being quiet this slippery. The midwife had always taken care of the catching and cleaning.

Now that it was out, she was able to maneuver the baby in her arms so that the cord was unwrapped from its neck. Its first breaths were shallow and irregular. She relaxed considerably heard the first cry, a loud, robust cry. The little bit of blue became a healthy pink. She'd done it and the baby was okay, praise God. She had a beautiful baby boy.

She wrapped him up in her petticoat to be sure he would stay warm and brought him to her chest. The cord was still attached, but she wasn't overly worried about that. She'd heard of people letting the cord stay until all of it came from the mother's body naturally. She could cut it off from the baby later.

She couldn't believe it. They had a little son. The only thing that would make this moment more perfect was if Kid were there to share in the joy with her.

sss

Kid cursed. In the long thick grass, he could find no tracks. If it had been pressed down by feet or horses, it was impossible to see the depressions now. He had been looking for 20 minutes with no luck.

He was ready to ride and get a search party together, but Arthur Walsh came riding up as hard as his horse would go.

"You son of a-" Kid said murderously, "where's my wife?"

"That's what I came to tell you. At my cabin having a baby. Hurry. I'll show you where she is."

"Why should I believe you?" He didn't know if he trusted this man. What if it was a trap he was leading him into instead of to Ruth?"

"Because I'm not a killer, not anymore."

He wanted to haul the man off the horse and pummel him for taking her in the first place, but he wanted to get to Ruth more. But after he got to her, he couldn't be held responsible for his actions, particularly if she or the baby was hurt in any way.


	13. Chapter 13

Ruth was exhausted and would have liked nothing better than to fall asleep, but she had to plan what she was going to do until either help arrived or she felt well enough to make her way back. The baby would be fine, he was already nursing, but she needed to find some water and food for herself at bare minimum.

Despite her resolve, she felt herself drifting off to sleep when Kid all but broke the door down. He stumbled over the belt in the floor and fury broke out as he picked it up and demanded, "Did he hurt you?"

"No, he was going to tie me up with it, but he didn't."

He'd noticed the blood and the bundle in her arms, but he was almost afraid to ask and he approached the bed slower than when he'd first came in. "How are you?"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Look, you have a son."

"A son?" He would have been delighted with another daughter, but he was thrilled to have a boy.

Ruth offered him up and Kid gladly took him. He had a few strands of white blonde hair though he was mostly bald. The baby opened his eyes and peeked sleepily at his father through his blonde eyelashes. He had dark blue eyes like Mercy's. "A son," he repeated as if he couldn't quite believe it.

When Arthur Walsh came in behind, Kid handed their son back to Ruth and turned toward the older man, not very happily.

"You've got some explaining to do." Kid slammed him onto the same chair he'd pushed Ruth onto earlier and got his gun away from him. Walsh's reflexes were quick, but Kid's were quicker. Of course, the man was almost 20 years his senior so maybe that was to be expected. "Let's start with why you thought it'd be a wise decision to kidnap my pregnant wife."

"I didn't mean her or the baby any harm. I only wanted to talk. Are they okay?"

"No thanks to you," he said, not placated in the least.

"I am sorry. I just didn't want you finding me. I've a new life now and I didn't want anyone interfering with that. Do you have any idea what it's like to constantly look over your shoulder, waiting for the next hotshot who wants to prove himself faster. Men have died at my hands. Young men with their whole lives ahead of them for a stupid reason. I wanted out. I couldn't stand it anymore."

"Well, I can certainly understand that part. But what I don't understand is how you pulled it off. I watched you die. Watched the doctor pronounce you dead."

"It was a carefully orchestrated plan. My twin was dying of consumption. He wanted to go out on his own terms and do me this favor by making it look as if I'd died in a gunfight."

Kid could, unfortunately, understand the hopelessness that came from having the dreaded lung disease too. "But the scar. Your twin couldn't have had the same scar."

"It was makeup to resemble my scar, and who would worry about looking closely at a scar when there was a gun wound to deal with?"

It was a shock to him. To realize it hadn't been a fluke that he'd won the title but a planned spectacle to free Walsh from the life Kid had been living for the past 14 years. He didn't know whether to be angry or impressed.

"Why me? Your twin picked me of all the men he could have chosen to fight. I was a mere boy then."

"I saw you shooting a bird. You were fast. I didn't know if you'd be the fastest, but I knew that you'd have a fighting chance and that you'd picked off the last bearer of the title would be a boon in your favor. Most men would leave you be because of that alone. And clearly, you deserved to be called the fastest draw in the west because you're still alive after all this time."

He wondered what his life would have been like without the forced mantle. If he hadn't had to constantly move from one place to another due to all the gunfights. For one thing, he likely he wouldn't have met Ruth. For that reason alone, he was thankful to the man. Ruth would say it was an example of how what men meant for ill, God used for good.

Walsh mistook his silence for an angry silence. "I'm sorry. Please, don't kill me. I wouldn't blame you if you did, but please don't."

"That's all in the past. But I'd be obliged to you if you would bring back my wagon. My wife won't be up to going horseback. I might not turn you in for kidnapping if you cooperate." Though a part of Kid argued against trusting the man, he had brought him here in the first place when he could have easily fled. "You'll forgive me though if I keep your gun for a little while."

While they waited his return, Kid heated some water to clean off his pocketknife, so it'd be nice and clean to cut the cord, which he did. He settled down by Ruth and the baby, marveling in how blessed they were.

"I've had a lot of time to sit and think about a name," Ruth said. "What do you think about Isaiah Benjamin Cole?"

The book of Isaiah was one of her favorite books in the Bible. It was full of woes and warnings and judgments, but it ended on the most hopeful promise ever given: Jesus Christ, God, is salvation. It was the message she lived her life by and it was the hope she had clung to through the hard birth.

Kid smiled. He had known Ruth would want a biblical name and he liked Isaiah. It was a good name. But it was Benjamin he was touched by, the name of his late brother. It would have been too painful for it to be a first name, but as a middle name, it was perfect. "I like it. No, I love it." He took the infant from his mother again.

Isaiah broke out into an angry cry. Likely from getting passed back and forth when he just wanted to sleep. Already he was different from his older sister, proving himself not quite as easygoing. It was amazing to him how a person was a unique individual from birth or even before birth.


	14. Chapter 14

Walsh returned with the wagon. He'd even taken the time to make sure the blankets were piled just right to make her as comfortable as possible.

Kid carried Ruth out to the wagon and then went back for Isaiah.

Walsh rode back with them, but as soon as the wagon was stopped, Kid turned to him. "Don't take this the wrong way, but if you ever come near my wife again or even lurk in the shadows, my gun just might accidentally go off."

Kid knew there were some things that Ruth wasn't telling him because he'd asked her about her experience while the wagon was being gotten and he could tell she'd carefully glossed over some things, so as not to incite his anger. And that led him to believe Walsh had been a little rough with her.

"Understood. If I were in your shoes, I'd do the same thing. You won't see hide nor hair of me again."

"Thank you for getting help," Ruth said. "I know it couldn't have been an easy choice for you when you weren't sure how Kid would react to you."

He tipped his hat. "You're welcome, ma'am. I'm sorry for putting you through that. Thank you both for letting me go."

Kid threw the man's gun back to him. Walsh didn't look surprised to find the chambers empty. Kid still only trusted him as far as he could throw him.

Kid waited until Walsh was out of the line of vision before he got Ruth down from the wagon bed.

She was able to walk into the house, holding Isaiah and leaning on Kid for support.

Electa let out a huge sigh of relief when she saw them. "Am I ever glad to see you, Sister Ruth. I saved you some supper."

"Thank you. I am feeling a mite peckish."

"Is that a baby?" Electa asked in doubt of whether she could trust her own eyes.

"The latest addition to the Cole family," Ruth said proudly. "His name's Isaiah."

"Aww. He's cute," she said before hurrying away for the food.

"Come see what we got you," Kid called to Mercy, once he had Ruth seated with the baby.

Mercy, who had been playing in the bedroom, came running in at the sound of her father's voice. Her mouth fell open at the sight of the small, pink baby.

The o-shaped lips stretched into a wide smile. "It's ours to keep?" she asked, wriggling with excitement.

"There's really no way of sending him back," Ruth said with a laugh. "What do you think of your baby brother?"

"He's wonderful." But her excitement was suddenly gone and she looked a little glum.

"What's wrong, honey?" Ruth asked immediately.

"I missed it. God brought him down from heaven and I missed it. I wanted to say hello to Him."

Ruth fought a smile. "It doesn't work quite that way. We don't see God with our eyes until we get to heaven, but we feel Him in our hearts and we can always tell Him hello in our prayers. He hears us just the same as if He were in the room because He is."

She studied her brother carefully for a few moments before informing her parents, "I want to call him Sue." Sue was currently Mercy's favorite name and the name of her doll.

"Well, you can't name a boy Sue," Kid said immediately.

"Why not?" Mercy asked, looking up at her father and cocking her head.

"Well, for one, the other boys would beat him up."

"Kid," Ruth chastised but she was grinning.

"They would," he said with an answering grin. He became serious again for Mercy's sake. "It's just that some names are for girls and some names are for boys. That's the plain and simple truth of it. And your mother and I have already decided on calling him Isaiah."

"Oh. How do you tell the difference between a boy baby and a girl baby?"

"Well..." Kid said, not at all sure how he was going to answer that one.

Ruth waited on the answer too with twinkling eyes. It was fun watching the other parent in the hot seat, waiting to see what their response to a difficult question would be.

"I know," Mercy said, answering her own question. "Their hair. Girls have long hair. Boys have short hair. And Isaiah has really short hair."

"You're a smart, little girl," Kid said with obvious relief.

Mercy kissed the baby's forehead, demonstrating her love for him already. She was going to be a great big sister.

Electa brought in the supper food for Ruth and Kid. Ruth gave her Isaiah to hold while they ate, who seemed both pleased to get to hold the baby and a little nervous about it.

They retired to bed after supper.

Once again Kid's guitar case doubled as a crib, which seemed to tickle Mercy to no end, especially when she was told that it had been her bed too.

As Mercy tucked her doll in, she looked over at her mother who was doing the same thing with Isaiah.

"You have a baby now too. We can play babies together now."

"I suppose we can at that," Ruth agreed.

Mercy started for the bed where Ruth had already climbed in.

"Hey, baby doll," Kid said, stopping her. You and I are going to camp out on the floor and give Momma the bed to herself tonight."

"Why?"

"It's hard work when a momma gets a new baby and she's extra tired and sore. And we'll be closer to Isaiah down on the floor."

Mercy didn't put up a fuss. She said her prayers and then there was a chorus of good nights. She fell asleep almost before the good nights were over. Kid envied her because sleeping on the floorboards wasn't going to be as easy for him even with the padding the blankets under him provided.

Ruth had forgotten how much newborns slept, but if she remembered correctly their sleep sessions didn't last long and she should be catching 40 winks herself, but she couldn't help admiring the sweetness of the sleeping infant from her vantage point on the mattress. "There's nothing like a baby to remind you how precious life is. Babies are a gift, a reward, and a heritage. Our children depend on us to teach them about the Lord. It's a mighty responsibility, but it's one I wouldn't give up for anything."

"I know what you mean," Kid said. "You and the kids are my life. I realized that more than ever today. You guys are the number one reason for my earthly existence. And you know, no matter the twists and turns our lives take, we're exactly where we're supposed to be if God's in our lives and we're following His will. And I think we are. Even me being a sometimes gunfighter, sometimes bounty hunter is a part of that."

Ruth made no comment.

"Ruth?...Ruth?" He heard a muffled snore.

He stood up and looked at her sleeping form in the soft September moonlight. She was sound asleep. He tucked her in and kissed her lightly on the lips. He wished he had thanked Walsh for his part in setting him on this road because he wouldn't trade his life right now for anything.


	15. Chapter 15

Ruth was buttoning the back of Mercy's Sunday dress when Isaiah broke out into a loud wail for his breakfast.

Mercy covered her ears. "He's not as quiet as Sue. He's hurting my ears."

"Be patient with him. That's the only way babies have to tell you when they want something," Ruth finished buttoning the dress and then she went to pick up Isaiah, who quieted as soon as he got to eating. She used a blanket to hide it from Mercy.

"Did I cry like that?" Mercy asked.

"Every baby cries sometimes, but you rarely cried."

"Probably because I'd hurt my own ears."

Ruth grinned. "That's what it was, was it?"

Though Mercy didn't exactly know what the baby was doing behind the blanket though she'd been told that it was how babies ate, she raised her own doll up in a similar position and blanketed it in imitation of her mother.

"Can I hold him?" Mercy asked when Ruth was through burping him.

"Of course you can. Just don't ever try to hold him without out me or Daddy helping you."

Mercy put her doll down and scooted closer and Ruth laid him in her lap while still keeping a hold of Isaiah.

After a minute or two, Ruth stood up with the baby. "Well, folks are going to be arriving any minute. We better get out there, so we can meet them."

Mercy took Isaiah's small quilted blanket with them. "In case, Isaiah wants it," she explained when Ruth looked at her.

"You're such a big girl and a great help to me," Ruth praised her daughter.

Mercy beamed and added a skip to her step.

Kid had been bringing in the benches to fill the living room in anticipation of the coming Sunday morning worshipers. Electa fussed and flitted around, making sure everything was perfect. Ruth took the padded chair that was close to the bedroom, so make a quick getaway should Isaiah start to cry in the middle of the service.

The people slowly filtered in until practically the whole town was there, including the dissenter.

"Why don't you preach to us, Sister Ruth?" asked one of the women when it was time to start.

"Oh, no," Ruth begged off. "I think you should spend your first Sunday deciding how you're going to conduct it on a normal basis and then do it to see how you like it."

So they spent a few minutes doing just that. One of the older men read from the Bible, beginning in Genesis, they sang songs, and they prayed for their crops and the wellbeing of their community.

The service lasted just 30 minutes altogether, but the people did seem to enjoy meeting and worshiping together even without a church or a bona fide preacher and they lingered to socialize afterwards.

"So where's your ghost?" asked a teenage boy with a snicker to Electa. "We heard your house is haunted."

"Then you were mistaken," Electa said without batting an eyelash. "There are no ghosts in this house. Only the Holy Ghost."

 _Real Universe_

"I'm not afraid to summon the dead because I know it can't be done," Sister Ruth answered the fortune teller.

"You're religious, aren't you? What about Samuel? Wasn't he a ghost when he appeared to Saul?" She asked her questions with a smugness.

"It was God that allowed Samuel to deliver the message. Why do you think the witch of Endor screamed when she saw him? It wasn't an everyday occurrence for her. Don't you understand what you're doing is evil? Against God's law? You're not just hurting yourself, you're leading people to hell. The only thing you're summoning is demons."

"You are off your nut, lady. Look, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. It isn't real. It's all a trick. I knew your name because I saw your wagon this morning."

She stood up and took Ruth by the elbow and led her behind the table to the paper origami she made "float" sometimes during a session. "See, strings make this stuff float."

The woman flipped up the tablecloth. "And look under here. This is the source of the rapping sounds the 'ghosts' make."

A bruised yellow apple hung at the end of a wooly string of yarn. With a simple movement of her foot, it would knock against the table unseen. So simple and so devious.

Ruth wondered how so many fell for it, but then most weren't looking for a trick. And the less glitzy something looked, the more realistic it seemed.

"I see and I stand by the fact that you're serving Satan and not God in this. Do you tell the people when you're finished that your show's not real?"

"And if I did how long do you think I'd stay in business? People will believe what they want to believe. They come to me. I don't go to them." The stubborn lift of her jaw, the folded arms, and the stony expression all said she refused to be moved on the subject.

"I'll pray you see the error of your ways," Ruth said. "Christ is the only way we find hope and reunion with our loved ones. And that's what you should be telling your clients."

Kid had been waiting in front of the flap. As they left the tent, another customer went in, eager for the impossible. The colorful tent looked so innocent on the outside, but for some, it was an appalling trap. Because afterwards, they would believe in ghosts and psychics and heaven knows what else. And beliefs built on lies could never satisfy.

The End


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